


Tennessee Tornado

by LadyArtemis13



Series: Peter Parker: Cinnamon Roll Tattoo Artist [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Age Appropriate Starker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Peter Parker, Gen, Harley Is A Brat, Harley Is The Favorite Nephew, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Pierced Peter Parker, References to Iron Man 3 - Freeform, Tattoo Artist Peter Parker, Tattooed Peter Parker, but in a good way, southern harley keener, they're connected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArtemis13/pseuds/LadyArtemis13
Summary: Harley's got a three-day weekend that he gets to spend in New York. He's excited to spend some time in the labs and to see some of his favorite people. (Don't tell them that.) Naturally, he also takes the time to screw with Tony a little. It's okay though. After all, Peter is right there with him.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Peter Parker: Cinnamon Roll Tattoo Artist [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1387177
Comments: 13
Kudos: 220





	Tennessee Tornado

It’s an otherwise average Friday at Avengers Tower when a little Tennessee tornado blows in.

Harley absentmindedly taps his foot as he waits for the elevator to reach the Avengers’ floor. A three-day weekend (thank you, teacher workday) means that he’s got plenty of time to see two of his favorite people, but he’s never been the patient sort.

He also won’t be letting them _know_ that they’re two of his favorite people. Tony’s ego is inflated enough, and Peter would just give him that soft look that… no. Just no. (He has a reputation, damnit. He can’t be seen getting all mushy and sentimental.)

The elevator finally stops and Harley steps out only to be immediately met with Tony Stark himself.

“Hey, kid. FRIDAY told me you were headed up.” He pushes off the couch he’s leaning against and walks over to ruffle Harley’s hair in his usual greeting. Harley ducks away from his hand in his own usual way.

“Hey, old man,” he says, grinning at the annoyed look it gets him.

“Remind me again why you’re here for the weekend?” Tony asks.

Harley gives him a serious look. “Well, that’s ‘cause-“

“Don’t say it.”

“We’re connected.”

Tony groans and reaches up to rub at one temple while Harley, feeling rather satisfied with himself, looks curiously around the room.

“Peter here?” he asks.

“He’s at work,” Tony tells him. “Should be back in a few hours.”

“We could go visit him,” Harley suggests with a mischievous smile.

Tony just gives him a look. “Nice try, kid. You’re sixteen. You’ve still got two years before Peter will give you any kind of ink.”

Harley points one finger in his direction. “I’ve looked into the laws. With a parent’s permission-“

“Permission that I _know_ your mom didn’t give you,” Tony interrupts with an amused smile that only grows at Harley’s defeated huff. “Now, come on. Drop your bags off in your room then we can hit the lab.”

“Do I get paid for this?” Harley asks, not questioning it when Tony leads the way down the hallway towards the bedrooms. “I mean, you’re gettin’ my hard work and labor. I feel like I should get _somethin_ ’.”

“You get room and board,” Tony says over his shoulder as he stops in front of a door. Harley, not expecting the stop, nearly runs into him.

“What gives?” he asks in confusion. “This ain’t my usual room.”

Tony smiles. “It’s your new room,” he says, unceremoniously throwing the door open.

Harley gives him a curious look before he walks in, tossing his duffle bag and backpack on the bed. It’s covered in a simple black and white comforter that matches well with the rest of the room: nice but not particularly personalized.

There _is_ a Tennessee Volunteers poster on one of the walls because Tony thinks he’s funny. Joke’s on him though because that’s Harley’s team and he doesn’t mind at all. The Iron Man and Spiderman pictures on the opposite wall can also stay but only because he recognizes Peter’s art style and sees his signature in the bottom right corner of each.

“Why did I get a-“ Harley cuts himself off when realization dawns. He grins, mischief lighting up his blue eyes. “This was Peter’s room, wasn’t it?” he asks knowingly.

There’s a beat of silence.

“It might have been,” Tony admits. He bites back a sigh as he does because he knows exactly what’s coming next. Sure enough-

“Aw,” Harley mock coos. “I almost forgot that you two finally got yourselves together.”

“Harley-“

“I mean, it only took, what? More’n a decade?” he continues, completely ignoring the attempted interruption. “I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me he’s Spiderman. I mean, I had to find out with the rest of the world on Twitter.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “Do you even have a Twitter?”

“No,” Harley says with a scoff.

“Then how…?”

Harley gives him a pointed look. “It went viral,” he says flatly. “You don’t need an account to know that. Course,” he adds thoughtfully, “I really shoulda realized sooner given how you talked ‘bout Peter _and_ Spiderman.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tony demands.

“You were a lovesick puppy,” he accuses with an amused smile. “Still are.”

Tony scoffs. “I- I wouldn’t call it lovesick,” he says defensively. It’s probably true but he can’t help but want to argue with the kid. He’ll be absolutely insufferable all weekend if Tony just flat out admits that he’s right. (He actively ignores the Peter-like voice in the back of his head saying something about pots and kettles both being red and gold.)

“Are you kiddin’ me, old man?” Harley asks with a smirk. “You’re two steps away from gettin’ his name in a heart-shaped tattoo.”

Tony looks completely offended. “Okay. First of all,” he says, “I would never get anything so tacky. Second of all, even if I wanted to, Peter would never do it.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it?” Harley asks, innocent in a way that doesn’t fool him at all.

“That’s not what I said, you brat,” Tony tells him with a glare that has no real heat behind it.

He shrugs. “That’s what I heard.”

Tony narrows his eyes at his completely unrepentant grin. “Get to the lab,” he snaps.

Laughing a little at how easy it is to get under Tony’s skin, Harley leads the way out of his new room. “What are we doin’ anyway?” he asks.

“I’ve gotta few ideas we can mess around with,” Tony tells him. “Or, if you’ve got anything you’ve been thinking about then we can see what we can do about it.”

Harley just grins and speeds up a little, eager to get to the lab and get started. Tony smiles as he follows behind him, just as ready to see what the little menace can come up with.

They manage a few hours of uninterrupted lab time before their work is put to a stop.

“I knew I’d find you two in here.”

Tony and Harley both turn at the familiar voice. Tony immediately smiles, pulling his safety glasses off and hanging them on his collar as he crosses over to Peter.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He presses a quick kiss to Peter’s lips and pointedly ignores the fake gag that comes from somewhere behind him.

Peter smiles wide and presses one hand briefly to Tony’s chest before he crosses the lab to pull Harley into a hug that he has no choice in.

Mind you, he doesn’t really try to fight it.

Harley leans into it and takes a second to tuck his face into Peter’s shoulder, ignoring the way his own safety glasses dig into his skin. He marvels at the way antiseptic and the slightest hint of coconut are just as comforting as the hot metal and motor oil smell that fills the lab.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you outside of a video call,” Peter comments as he pulls back. He drops two tattooed hands on Harley’s shoulders and looks him over. He frowns slightly. “You’re gonna be taller than me too, aren’t you?”

Harley just laughs and pulls his glasses off. “Hopefully,” he teases.

Peter gives him a playful glare. “Don’t go getting too full of yourself,” he tells him. “It’s not exactly hard to do.”

Harley raises his eyebrows. “Is that really the argument you wanna go with?”

“It’s the only one I have,” he admits with a sigh.

Tony smiles in amusement at the admission as he watches Peter greet Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers. “You’re home a little early,” he notes. “No walk-ins today?”

Peter pats Dum-E one more time before he turns and gives Tony a look. “I’m home later than I planned,” he says dryly.

“What?”

“Exactly how long have you two been down here?” Peter asks.

Tony and Harley exchange a look.

“I don’t know,” Harley says with a shrug. “A while, I guess.”

“And have you eaten anything?”

They both turn to look at the empty coffee mug and Mountain Dew bottle sitting on one of the tables.

“Kinda?” Harley says with another shrug.

Peter gives him a look. “Why are you lying to me?” he asks flatly.

“The kid ate before he flew in,” Tony says defensively. He looks at Harley. “Please tell me you ate,” he adds, voice nearly a whisper like he doesn’t know Peter can hear him perfectly.

“I got a to-go plate at Waffle House ‘fore I left,” he assures him.

“Waffle House?” Tony repeats with a raised eyebrow. “Is that not a breakfast place?”

Harley scoffs lightly. “It’s good anytime. Hell, I’d say it’s usually most busy in the middle of the night.”

Tony just shakes his head. “Your southernisms are lost on me,” he declares, smirking when Harley frowns at him.

“That’s not a-“ He cuts himself off with a huff. “See? This is why Peter’s my favorite,” he claims.

“Mine too,” Tony agrees easily. He winks at Peter after he says it and doesn’t even seem to notice the way Peter looks at him in complete adoration for it.

Harley _does_ notice and, in an act of pure self-preservation, quickly redirects the conversation. He looks at Peter with a grin. “You know what would really make you my favorite though? I mean, just push you right over the finish line?”

Peter trades a knowing look with Tony. “What’s that?” he asks.

“If you gave me a tattoo.”

Tony laughs when Peter immediately sighs and reaches up with one hand to rub at his temples. “You knew that was coming,” he tells him.

“I did,” Peter admits. He drops his hand with another sigh and turns back to Harley. “You are sixteen,” he reminds him. “Too young for any kind of ink.”

“Come on, Peter,” Harley whines. “I can legally get a tattoo now with a parent’s permission.”

Peter cocks one eyebrow. “And do you have your mom’s permission?” he asks, already sure of the answer.

Harley smirks. “Gimme a pen and a piece of paper.”

Peter just shakes his head with a laugh. “Not happening, kid.” He reaches out and tugs lightly on a lock of shaggy hair. “Try again in two years.”

“I guess,” he mutters, arms crossed with a pout he would definitely deny.

“Don’t pout,” Tony tells him in amusement.

“I’m not poutin’,” Harley denies, immediately uncrossing his arms and schooling his features into something neutral.

Tony just gives a skeptical hum.

“Your first tattoo will be free,” Peter reminds him with a slightly sympathetic smile. He knows what it’s like to get that itch under your skin, that need for a little ink. “Plus, it’ll be like a graduation present,” he adds.

“I guess that works,” Harley reluctantly agrees.

“Speaking of, how’s school going?” Peter asks. “You keeping your grades up? Looking at colleges yet?”

Now, it’s not exactly uncommon for this topic to come up. Harley’s a borderline genius close to graduating high school and he’s talking to two _actual_ geniuses, one of which graduated MIT at seventeen.

The thing is, as soon as Peter asks about school like that Harley can’t help but fall back on those good ol’ boy manners he was raised on.

“Yes, sir,” he says, unconsciously standing a little straighter and looking him right in the eyes.

Peter gives him an amused look. “Harley, I’ve told you before that you don’t have to call me that.”

Harley shakes his head a little when he realizes what just happened. “I can’t help it,” he explains. “You’ve somehow figured out the exact tone of voice to make me, you know, polite and well-mannered.”

“Truly my greatest power,” he deadpans.

“It just might be,” Tony agrees seriously before he frowns in realization and looks at Harley. “Hang on a second. How come I never get called sir?” he asks in mock offense. “Peter does _and_ I’ve heard you call the girls ma’am more than once.”

“I could call you ma’am if you want,” Harley offers with a smirk.

“Very funny,” Tony says sarcastically, smiling slightly when he sees Peter stifle a laugh. “How come I don’t get called sir?” he asks again. “Where’s my respect?”

Harley levels him with a perfect deadpan. “It went out my garage door when I found you sittin’ there all pathetic.”

Peter chuckles at the clear offence on Tony’s face even as he thinks his heart skips at the reminder of Tony’s little trip to Tennessee. Thankful as he is that it led to them meeting Harley, he does _not_ like thinking about that whole incident.

“You still thinking about MIT?” he asks, recalling the last time they had talked about colleges.

“Of course, he is,” Tony scoffs. He looks at Harley and there’s definitely something proud in his eyes and his smile. “He’s an engineer through and through. Where else would he want to go?”

That’s true. All three of them know it’s true. Still, Harley can’t help but notice the perfect opportunity to screw with Tony.

Being who he is, he takes it.

“I’m actually lookin’ at NYU,” Harley says casually.

Peter narrows his eyes, immediately suspicious at his tone while Tony frowns slightly. “It’s a good school,” he reluctantly admits.

“Yeah. Their English department’s really good.”

Harley somehow manages to say it with a straight face. Peter, however, has to turn away to hide his smile when he sees the way Tony’s entire face falls.

“English department?” he repeats in a mix of disbelief and dawning horror. “ _English_?”

“Shakespeare, man,” Harley says with a solemn nod. “That’s where it’s at.”

“More of a Vonnegut man myself,” Peter comments.

Harley studies him for a second before he gives a slow nod. “I can see that.”

“But if you’re thinking British literature or even just the classics then that’s fine,” Peter tells him. He makes sure not to look at Tony. “Like you said, NYU’s got a great program.”

“I like the idea of the classics,” he agrees, face still completely serious as if he’s actually considering such. “I’m thinkin’ maybe the American works though. I mean, I grew up on Faulkner.”

Peter smiles. “I can see that.” He glances at Tony from the corner of his eye and suppresses a laugh before he turns back to Harley.

Harley nods slightly. “I wasn’t just lookin’ at English though. I mean, their _psychology_ department…”

“Psychology?” Tony repeats in a horrified whisper.

That’s enough to nearly break Harley who swallows hard around a laugh and trades looks with Peter. The artist, on his part, just bites his bottom lip around a smile.

“Tony?” he says carefully. “You okay, honey?”

“Yeah. You okay, old man?” Harley chimes in. “You look kinda stressed for some reason.”

Tony snaps out of it and crosses his arms with a scowl. “Both of you stop it,” he demands.

“Stop what?” Harley asks with an ‘innocent’ smile.

Peter reaches over and rests one hand on his shoulder as he gives Tony his own innocent look. “Tony, we need to support Harley. If he wants to study English-“

“He doesn’t!” Tony interrupts. He points an accusatory finger in their direction. “You know good and well he doesn’t want to study English!”

“Okay. Psychology then-“

“Stop helping him,” Tony says. He looks at Peter with his best puppy eyes which are, as usual, fairly effective. “You’re supposed to be on my side, sweetheart. You’re not supposed to help the little menace,” he adds, glaring at Harley.

Harley sees the way Peter’s face softens at Tony’s puppy eyes and sighs in defeat. Game over.

“Aw, honey,” Peter nearly coos. He walks over to Tony and cups his face with one hand, the other pressed right over the arc reactor scars. “I’m always on your side.”

“Thank you,” Tony says with a smug smile aimed at Harley who, in turn, just sticks his tongue out.

Peter gives him a too-sweet smile as he continues. “It’s just too easy to rile you up with stuff like this,” he explains, laughing slightly and pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek when that smug smile falls.

“It really is,” Harley agrees. He gives Tony a look. “Besides, do you really think I would major in liberal arts? _Me_? No offence, Peter,” he adds.

“None taken,” he says easily.

“That’s true,” Tony says with a sigh. He thinks for a second before he nods to himself and looks at Harley. “Look, Tennessee Williams-“

“You know he was actually from Mississippi, right?”

“ _Tennessee Williams_ ,” he repeats, completely ignoring Harley’s comment, “you are technically free to study whatever you want at whatever college you want. I’m only gonna ask you to promise me one thing.”

Harley cocks one eyebrow at the serious look on his face. “What’s that?”

“Don’t go to Caltech,” Tony says gravely.

Peter rolls his eyes with a fond smile when he sees the nearly offended look on Harley’s face.

“Don’t insult me,” he tells him. “I’d rather not go to college at all than go there. Which is perfectly fine,” he adds with a nod at Peter. “I mean, that can obviously work out great. The thing is, I actually need college. You know, ‘cause I can’t draw worth a damn.”

Peter just laughs and gestures toward the lab doors. “Come on, you two.”

Tony jerks his thumb at the table he and Harley had been using. “We were actually gonna-“

“-go upstairs and eat something,” Peter finishes smoothly. He cocks one eyebrow with a pointed look. “Right, honey?”

“Right,” Tony agrees with a resigned sigh. He deliberately ignores Harley’s snickering and mutter of a word that sounds suspiciously like ‘whipped’.

Later, Harley finds himself sitting in the living room with half of the Avengers while the other half stand in the kitchen arguing over what to order for dinner. It looks like it's going to come down to either pizza or Thai and he’s fine with either.

He looks over when the couch cushion beside him sinks under someone’s weight and sees that Sam has obviously walked away from the argument.

“Regret coming by the tower yet?” he asks with a friendly smile.

Harley shakes his head. “Nah. I always enjoy gettin’ to see, uh, I mean, gettin’ to use the labs.”

Sam gives him a knowing look and Harley silently curses the man’s therapist brain for always seeing what you mean even if you don’t say it.

Natasha chuckles from her curled-up spot in one of the armchairs. “I’m _sure_ you’re just here for the labs,” she drawls with an amused look at two certain Avengers standing on the fringe of the dinner argument.

Harley follows her line of sight and grins when he realizes what exactly they’re doing. As far as he can tell, Tony keeps adding fuel to the fire by encouraging the argument while Peter, sitting at the kitchen island right beside him, will occasionally chide Tony for it even as he smiles and never _actually_ tries to stop him.

“So, I gotta know,” Sam says, brow furrowed in thought. “I mean, I know Tony said you guys met when he got stuck in Tennessee. Then, I’m guessing he introduced you to Peter and, well, here you are.”

“Right.”

“So, the relationship here is…” Sam trails off with an expectant look.

Harley thinks for a second, “They’re kinda like… cool uncles,” he explains. “You know, the ones you maybe don’t see all that much but always have a great time when you do.”

“Uncles, huh?” Sam repeats. “That’s good I guess because the position of their children has already been filled.” He looks pointedly at the cat in Harley’s lap then gestures at Lola who is lying in the middle of the floor and chewing on a rubber bone.

He snorts as he runs his hand over a purring Jenny’s back. “Trust me, I’m good with being the favorite nephew,” he tells him.

“It suits you,” Natasha decides with a firm nod. “All three of you.”

Harley turns to watch the two men in question with a smile and finds himself thanking whatever higher power might be out there that Tony Stark broke into his garage all those years ago.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “It does.”

He doesn’t get to visit often but it’s always great when he does. After all, he always enjoys time spent with two of his favorite people.

(He’s still not telling _them_ that though.)

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a very long time (longer than I thought) since I posted anything in this universe. As a sorry for that, I give you Harley Keener hanging out with his (not) uncles. I don't know if I'll really do anything else with Harley in these stories besides maybe a mention here and there but I did enjoy this one.  
> Y'all, I have so many WIPs in my files. So many. Eventually, I'll get them finished and posted. Eventually. I promise. Hopefully.  
> Let me know what you thought and any ideas you might have!  
> P.S. As a southern girl myself, I declare that Harley Keener has never pronounced the 'g' at the end of a word in his life.


End file.
